


The Phwoaring Portrait

by Basmathgirl



Series: The Phwoaring Series [8]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Pictures, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 05:22:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor takes Donna to meet a painter in action. Not that he has plans of action of another sort...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I found these in the street, and handed them in immediately.  
>  **A/N:** Written originally with a prompt supplied by **tkel_paris** as a gift for her birthday (yes, I know; a bit late).  
>  **A/N2:** There was some research for this; but not an awful lot if I’m honest, beyond eventually choosing a painting I liked the look of and an artist that little is known about.

Donna cocked her head in wonder as she contemplated the picture on the magazine cover. It was one of those pre-Raphaelite compositions with the watery tart who had a problem keeping her clothes on. “What _was_ the fascination with that woman?” she wondered out loud.

The Doctor leaned over to glance at the picture and drily commented, “That is The Lady Of Shallot, Donna. The most famous pre-Raphaelite painting, if you count sales of the postcard; even though Waterhouse wasn’t technically one of the Brotherhood.”

“Trust you to have an opinion that goes off on a tangent,” Donna huffed back at him. “Anyway,” she remarked, more to herself than to anyone else, “I suppose I won’t get to see it.”

“Won’t get to see what?” he queried whilst peering at her over the rim of his cup of tea.

“This exhibition at the Royal Academy next year,” she answered, indicating towards the magazine with her hand.

“We can go, if you want…,” he started to say but was interrupted by Donna’s squeal of delight.

That was how he found himself gazing at several paintings of women with exquisite pale creamy skin and long ginger hair whilst foolishly remarking, “You could easily be in one of these paintings.”

The act was foolish because Donna inevitably disbelieved him and his motives. “There’s me,” she commented as she pointed out a particular item.

“Donna!” he admonished her. “That is the back end of a barn, and THAT is a cow! Why do you put yourself down so much?”

“I dunno…” Donna wouldn’t look him in the eye and gave a nonchalant shrug.

“That’s it!” the Doctor cried out, having instantly made his mind up. “I am taking you to see a prestigious artist who will fall hopelessly in love with you and demand to paint you immediately.”

“Good luck with that one, mate,” Donna muttered, thinking he wouldn’t be able to hear her.

He beamed confidently at her in return. “Luck won’t play any part in it,” he told her, and dragged her off towards the TARDIS.

~▄~▄~

“Oh look, London,” Donna remarked wryly as they stepped out of the TARDIS and onto a familiar street. “Who would have guessed?”

“Ah, but not just any old part of Victorian London,” the Doctor replied as he locked the door. “This is the Royal Academy.”

Donna considered the building before her and warred with the sarcasm within her that wanted to jump out and throttle him. “So it says,” she eventually answered him. “And such a beautiful day too…”

“Is this really your idea of a fine day?” he wondered in confusion, “all this smog.” 

She rolled her eyes at his puzzled frown, unable to believe his stupidity at times. “Come on then; tell me why we are here exactly because I have the feeling it has to do with some artist.”

“Not just some artist, Donna; although there are a few things I’d like to draw your attention to…” He waited for the groan from Donna that confirmed she was listening to him. There was something about the way she groaned at him that was always pleasing. “Let’s go and explore,” he suggested, taking her by the hand; and they swept into the building.

Most of the students were clearly elsewhere that day, thus making it hard to establish what the date was; but they found a public noticeboard that declared they were in the year 1892, much to Donna’s amazement.

“This may be all old news to you, Spaceman, but I didn’t live through this the first time,” she chided him when he scoffed at her surprise.

“Oi! I wasn’t around here then either,” he pointed out. “I landed on Earth in the 1960s.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed or commiserate?” she asked him. “Surely it’s all relative where you are concerned.”

He decided to ignore that for the time being. Instead he asked her, “What do you think of that?” He stood next to a portrait of a prone half-naked girl and an unfinished painting of naked women luring a man into the water and his subsequent death. “That one is St Eulalia, and this is Hylas and the Nymphs.”

 

St Eulalia                                  Hyas and the Nymphs

“Why isn’t he naked?” Donna instantly queried. “Why do only the women get to be naked? That hardly seems fair, does it? Talk about your average male fantasy!” she scoffed. “You’ll be telling me he’s turned up to fix their plumbing next.”

“Well,” the Doctor spluttered. “Admittedly it’s very Freudian…”

“May I be of some assistance?” a voice behind them asked.

They both turned to see a middle-aged man wearing a stereotypical artist’s apron regarding them with undisguised interest. 

The Doctor shot out a hand in greeting and the man was shaking it before he knew what had hit him. “How do you do,” the Doctor greeted him. “I’m the Doctor and this is Donna Noble.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” the man replied. “I am John Waterhouse.”

“John William Waterhouse?” the Doctor sought to confirm with supressed glee.

“The one and the same,” the man said, smiling at them. “What can I do for you both, Dr and Mrs Noble?”

Donna mumbled, “We’re not…”

“We were just admiring your painting, Mr Waterhouse” the Doctor explained, halting Donna’s denial in its tracks.

The man’s smile grew broader. “Thank you. What aspect of it do you like?”

“The underlying metaphor,” Donna interjected, and got glared at by the Doctor.

“Please excuse my erm… whatever... but she’s from Bar-” he began to say but he was quickly interrupted.

“Not the Barcelona joke again!” she huffed angrily. “Seriously? Talk about flog a dead horse!”

“Donna,” he warned her.

“For goodness sake come up with a better line or so help me I’ll…”

“Donna, please,” he begged.

“What?!” she demanded; and then immediately realised her mistake. “Oh! Sorry! I didn’t think. Come here, you prawn, and try to calm down,” she soothed him, wrapping her arms around his body. “Try to think of cold, freezing water,” she whispered into his ear; but he was already giving off pheromones that were affecting her in return. Unable to resist, she drew his earlobe into her mouth and sucked on it.

The Doctor groaned out in pleasure. “You are the siren of my song,” he said seductively as he melded her onto his body. “You call and I come.”

There was a loud cough from their fellow companion.

“Have you entered this establishment in order to partake in carnal delights?” Waterhouse wondered as he watched them reluctantly pull apart. “Or can I be of some other service for you?”

A guilty expression passed over the Doctor’s face, whilst Donna flushed a deep red in embarrassment. “Please forgive us, Mr Waterhouse,” the Doctor began. “I wanted to show Donna your latest paintings so that she could see that she had similar qualities.”

“She does indeed,” Waterhouse readily agreed. “In fact…” He edged nearer to Donna and peered at her intently. “May I bring you into the light, my dear Mrs Noble?” He held out a hand to her.

“Call me Donna, please,” she replied.

Waiting until the Doctor nodded his acceptance and encouragement of this situation, Donna let him take her hand and lead her over to the large window in the nearby studio. The room was flooded with suffused lighting, giving all objects an ethereal quality. 

“What do you think?” the Doctor couldn’t resist asking when Waterhouse continued to silently regard Donna, only occasionally moving her chin from side to side or swivelling her whole body.

“Hmm,” Waterhouse sighed out in thought. “Donna has exquisite skin tones, her eyes are an unusual blue, her hair is absolutely beautiful, and her figure is breathtaking.”

The Doctor rocked on his heels feeling very smug. “See! I told you,” he crowed. He soon changed his tune when he saw Waterhouse lift up her hand in order to kiss the back of it.

“May I paint you, Donna? It would be my pleasure to do so,” Waterhouse asked as his lips stayed on her hand.

“Oh! I don’t know what to say,” she admitted, deeply embarrassed by his offer. “It is extremely kind of you to suggest such a thing.”

“I’m sure your husband will acquiesce and give me permission to do some preliminary sketches,” Waterhouse tried to persuade her.

“Doctor?” she queried. “Is this what you wanted when you brought me here?”

“I confess that I hoped…,” he blustered, as pride burst through him. “Yes, I’m sure a few sketches can do no harm.”

“Okay,” she brightly told Waterhouse. “I’ll sit for you, but no funny business. Is that clear?”

Waterhouse smiled at her with great amusement. “I shall be a perfect gentleman,” he assured her.

“If that includes keeping your hands completely to yourself, then that’s fine by me… and him,” she added, thumbing towards the Doctor.

Waterhouse chuckled. “Then we are in agreement. Please come this way.”

~▄~▄~

Two hours later Donna was still sitting in the studio, perched on a low stool, as the Doctor watched anxiously on. After each quick drawing, Waterhouse would adjust one item of her clothing on her arms or legs; even going so far as to suggest she remove certain items before continuing with his sketches.

She could sense the Doctor bristling as Waterhouse approached her each time; but she argued that he had insisted she was capable of doing this. And it was he who had almost forced Waterhouse into being interested in her, for goodness sake! Why was he throwing a silent hissy fit about it?

“May I remove another layer?” Waterhouse nervously asked as he flicked his gaze briefly in the Doctor’s direction. “Would you take off your chemise?”

“That’d leave me in just my underskirt,” Donna blurted out.

“I would like to sketch your all curves,” Waterhouse explained.

Yeah, he wanted to draw her breasts after ogling them, more like it! The Doctor hadn’t moved from his position in a slightly darkened corner, so she assumed he was okay with this last thing; and Waterhouse had promised that she would not be completely exposed. 

“Why don’t you go and sharpen your pencil or something while I get ready,” she suggested in order to deal with all their worries.

“Very well, my dear,” Waterhouse happily agreed. “I will go and fetch us some repast to have after my sketch is done and then we will finish for the day.”

“Thank you,” she gratefully gushed; and waited for him to leave.

There was a single footstep behind her.

“Are you going to come out from your hiding place now, Spaceman?” she called out to him.

“I can do more than that,” he huskily answered, and gliding up to her side. “I can help you take off the last piece to reveal yourself.”

Donna giggled at his leering expression. “Why am I not surprised? You do like to dismantle things most of the time.”

“Oh I do,” he practically purred as he knelt down before her. “I adore undoing you.”

Before she had a chance to come up with a quip to amuse him, his hands were reverently on her body; smoothing across her skin, and then dipping down to take hold of the bottom edge of her chemise. With great care, he lifted it up and off her body, noting with delight that she had dressed appropriately for the time period and was now topless in front of him. 

His soft brown eyes raised up to longingly gaze at her just before his mouth found its way onto her eagerly waiting lips, and his caresses veered onto fondling her breast. She opened for him instantly, letting his tongue suck on hers. It was no good, she had to touch his flesh in return, and she quickly tackled his jacket and shirt buttons so that she was flushed with his skin within seconds. 

They groaned as their joint arousal flared. Hands kneaded backs, grasped skulls, run fingers through hair, as they sought every possible physical pleasure. If she hadn’t kept in the back of her mind that Waterhouse was likely to return to the room soon, she would have released the Doctor’s trousers and sat on his lap to allow him to take her body.

As it was she was powerless to resist wrapping her legs around his waist to grind against him. And of course that was when Waterhouse decided to enter the room and gasp out loudly in shock.

The Doctor and Donna broke apart from their passionate kiss with an echoing smack; and guiltily regarded Waterhouse as he stood just inside the doorway.

“We erm... So sorry, Waterhouse. We got a bit carried away,” the Doctor apologised.

“So I see, Doctor,” Waterhouse good-naturedly replied. “And since you are both in a state of undress, may I sketch you both together?” 

“Together?!” they both cried out.


	2. Chapter 2

Waterhouse openly laughed this time. “Your wife may be delectable, but I fear you will never let me be as intimate with her company as you are. There is a quality about you as a couple that I would like to capture.”

“What do you say, Donna?” the Doctor murmured to her.

“Since I can’t move away from you without giving him an eyeful, I suppose it makes sense to let him sketch us in this pose,” she breathed.

“I can help you stay modestly covered,” he offered.

“You’re going to have to do that anyway, Spaceman,” she whispered, and shot Waterhouse a cautious look.

Waterhouse tried to smile pleasantly, and then busied himself by bustling about, collecting together fresh materials.

The Doctor rearranged Donna’s hair so that her assets were adequately covered, and then called out, “We’re ready, Waterhouse.”

“In that case, Doctor, would you remove your upper clothing for me?” Waterhouse smirked back at him.

The Doctor was flabbergasted for a second. “Oh! Of course!” And he quickly stripped off his shirt, tie and jacket. 

Donna felt her blood race when he muttered to her, “When we get away from Waterhouse I’m going to show you exactly what a man should do to you.”

“Promises, promises,” she murmured back as they continued their pose. “Although I might surprise you and treat you instead.”

“You will?!” he trilled. “Then you’re on!”

~▄~▄~

Not too much time later Waterhouse declared he was finished for the day, and he thanked them both profusely for providing him with so much inspiration. “In truth I may use these sketches for two paintings,” he gleefully confided.

“It was lovely to meet you,” the Doctor gushed. “We’ll return in order to see what you create from today’s session.”

Having said their goodbyes, Donna eagerly tugged on the Doctor’s hand to get away from Waterhouse and be alone properly with him. She’d quite liked his jealous possessive streak demonstrated that day; it had been all the more surprising considering the visit had been completely his idea to entice a painter. Oh well. Her gain, she smugly decided.

~▄~▄~

The closing of the TARDIS doors often meant a possible key change in their relationship dynamic; from submissive to dominant, and vice versa. But Donna wasn’t in the mood to take charge that evening; she wanted the Doctor to deliver his promise instead.

As usual, the Doctor worked at the console to dematerialise the TARDIS as soon as they entered home; and this time Donna stood by his side to assist, deliberately pushing herself against him as she did. 

“Are you trying to tempt me with your body, Donna?” he asked as he finished guiding them into the vortex and put the break on.

“Oh no,” she saucily replied. “I would never do that. And I certainly wouldn’t expect you to follow me if I did this.” She then leaned in to lick up his ear, gave him a sultry look and walked backwards towards the corridor, keeping eye contact with him as she went.

“I thought so,” he leered back. “Then I’d better stay right here.” 

Obviously that meant that he followed her slowly, not catching up until they were outside their bedroom. They automatically reached for each other; it was like a well-rehearsed dance. 

“Please,” she quietly begged, and pulled his head down until his lips touched hers.

She was ready and waiting for him; so inviting. He couldn’t refuse her, not now. He tried ghosting his kiss across her lips but the temptation was too great to press more keenly, more desperately. “Oh Donna!” he gasped, hungrily tasting her. He wanted her so very much; wanted this, anything that she was prepared to give him. They shared desperate open-mouthed kisses, worried that this delicious moment would be whipped away from them again by a cruel fate.

They groaned together as they ravished each other. Hands moved over bodies, moulding them together; pressing firmly and insistently. He pushed her up against the wall behind them, pinning her with his passion, determined to keep her exactly where he could see her. He pushed her legs apart, rubbing against her, silently demanding access through her long skirt. 

“Yes,” she moaned as he placed hot kisses down her succulent throat, pulling aside the collar of her Victorian blouse as he sought the precious flesh beneath. “But maybe not here,” she panted.

“Where then?” he growled his question in response, running his hands over her breasts in frustration. He deliberately pressed his arousal into her flesh. “I want you,” he stated in low tones. Not waiting for her answer, he licked across her right breast, nudging the cloth of her camisole with his nose until it released her nipple into his eager mouth. He suckled lovingly on it, bringing it to a taut peek. Replacing his mouth with his fingertips he sought out her other nipple hungrily, and he was pleased to feel her squirm underneath him. “Do you like that?” he asked.

“Oh yes!” she answered quickly, and wriggled against his bulge; pleased when he growled at her again. She giggled lightly. “You sound like an animal,” she told him breathlessly.

“It’s what you reduce me to,” he replied; and ripped the front of her chemise open. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll buy you new clothes,” he answered her unspoken question. He realised that if he wasn’t careful he’d be taking her up against the wall and that wasn’t a comfortable position for what he wanted to do. Making his decision, he stooped and lifted her. Kicking open a bedroom door he deposited her in the centre of the bed.

She gazed up at him fascinated by this powerful being that wanted to possess her. He began to strip off his clothing, watching her intensely as he undid each button, each knot, each zip, until he was looming over her in just his t shirt and boxer shorts. She reached up and helped him peel off the t shirt and took the opportunity to caress his chest and upper body. Then he lunged at her, invading her mouth as he tore off her skirt and petticoat. He worked his way down to her breasts, kissing, suckling, nipping her tender flesh. He released the tie at the waist of her underwear with a triumphant flourish; and then his thumbs were looped through the thin material at the sides of her bloomers. “May I?” he grinned his question at her before firmly ripping them from her body.

She squealed in shock and protest; but he ignored her, kissing down the soft flesh that lead to his evident goal. He rubbed her gently, sighing, “Beautiful!” 

She’d expected a brief touch in an effort to arouse her, but instead he luxuriated in caressing her; bringing up a finger to taste her juices before lowering his mouth to lap at her folds with relish. She mewled loudly as his tongue licked along her vaginal lips, up to her clit, and then he plunged into her, teasing her with the tip of his tongue. 

She bucked almost off the bed as he feasted on her until she groaned loudly and pushed herself onto him. He emerged looking very smug, smacking his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

Needing to wipe that smug smile off his face, she reached out and stroked him through his boxers, getting an ecstatic closed-eyed response. She hadn’t expected him to take hold of her hand and guide it inside his boxers onto his cock. Nevertheless she swept her fingers down him, feeling the girth and length of him as he pushed insistently into her touch. “You’ll need to take them off,” she informed him.

There was another knowing grin as he dragged his boxers down his thighs. “Will that do?” he asked her. “You can do more than that with me.”

So she ran her thumb over the tender skin beneath his foreskin. In response, he let out a low feral growl that always did things to her. Giving her a sniff, he licked up her throat. He began to undulate against her, caressing her hips, her breasts and her bottom. Grasping his cock she guided him to her entrance, letting him feel how hot and moist she was for him. He let out another feral growl as he pressed into her.

He couldn’t believe how warm and tight she felt around him; always so warm, like a delicious bath. His breathing stuttered as he dared to push in some more. All he could think of was her hot aroused flesh surrounding him; so inviting as it pulled him in. He thrust gently; worried he was hurting her, until she huffed encouragingly at him and slapped his arm. 

Something broke within in him at that; he grasped her hips lifting her slightly and pounded into her with long hard strokes. She answered each of his growls with a puffing groan. That is until she screeched her release, begging for more. 

“Come on, Donna! One more time for me,” he encouraged her, knowing she could do it. 

Fascinated, he angled his thrust to elicit more noises from her, changing pitch as she climaxed; but he couldn’t hold off much longer. He took her then without mercy; howling loudly when he cum hard. “Oh Donna,” he mumbled into her neck when he collapsed on top of her. “I don’t know how you do this to me; but you are so bloody sexy!” 

She pretended to gasp in shock. “Did I finally wear you?!” she asked. “Are you broke?”

He burst into delighted laughter. “No, I can easily mend. As for you, I can’t say. You may never get over me.”

She inevitable swatted at his chest. “Geroff! Talk about full of yourself.”

He smiled as a retort occurred to him. “No, you were full of me.”

The resultant smack was enjoyed by both of them.

~▄~▄~

“Okay, where is this wonderful painting we inspired, Spaceman?” Donna asked dismissively some time later as they waded their way through the crowd of visitors for the 2008 Royal Academy Show.

He seemed to know exactly where he was going, so she followed him blindly.

“There you go,” he proudly announced.

“Which one?” she inevitably asked.

His face lit up even more, if that was possible. “May I introduce you to The Mermaid, The Merman, A Mermaid, and…” He swivelled to point to another painting as Donna practically jumped up and down with glee. “The Siren. I’m not sure if we influenced Echo And Narcissus; but I’d say you possibly feature in this one.”

  

The Merman                                                                                The Mermaid

A Mermaid                     The Siren                   Echo and the Narcissus

Donna peered at the nameplate, and read out, “Miranda the Tempest. What makes you think I did?”

Miranda the Tempest

“There’s something about it that I feel will be in my personal time line. I’d rather not say more than that,” he said with a covering sniff.

She fondly caressed his cheek. “I hope I never have to see you that upset. So… about all these other pictures,” she distracted him from his sombre mood. “I’m a mermaid. Well, I never thought I’d be that! And look at you being all adorable.”

He blushed. “What does it say in the catalogue?”

She opened the book to the relevant page. “It says here that the mermaid is a sensual and intoxicating beauty to delight and unnerve the Victorian male. No! Really?! Blimey.”

“He seemed to have a thing for mermaids,” the Doctor added, “and enticing female forms.”

“I don’t honestly think we had anything to do with Echo And Narcissus,” Donna remarked as she viewed it properly. “For a start she’s got boobs that are too small. But you do like looking in the mirror,” she couldn’t resist teasing him.

“Oi!” he defended himself. “I’m worth looking at.”

“Very true,” she agreed, and planted a kiss on his cheek. She then hugged his arm. “Thank you for letting me be a model for a change,” she whispered.

He eagerly kissed her back. “Thank you for letting me convince you to pose.”

“Have you ever been to bed with a model?” she brought her lips up to his ear to seductively ask.

A delighted shiver ran through is body. “Funny you should ask. I have; and she was described as being sensual and an intoxicating beauty.” He paused before asking, “Do you fancy unnerving this male for a while?”

“Always,” she answered; and captured his lips to seal the promise.

**End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Images courtesy of http://www.1st-art-gallery.com/John-William-Waterhouse/John-William-Waterhouse-oil-paintings.html
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> And I assure you the images show up where I posted this [HERE](http://bas-math-girl.livejournal.com/322631.html)


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